The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(8)

I watch him head down the hall and back downstairs.

I’m a coward, because I don’t follow him and ask him what’s on his mind.

Instead, I go to bed, because it’s the easier option.





CHAPTER 6





SALEM





“Mom?” I call, letting myself into the house.

Christy called me about thirty minutes ago during my drive letting me know everything was okay, but she had to head out instead of waiting for me to arrive.

When I pulled into the driveway, I steadfastly ignored the truck parked next door. It’s bigger than the one Thayer used to have, but I still managed to act like I didn’t see it, using my hair as a shield.

“In here, honey,” she calls from the living room.

“Hey.” The word leaves me in a relieved breath. Her skin tone is a little warmer today, slightly flushed and she looks less tired despite being in the bed. There’s a tray across her lap and she’s coloring. “Looks pretty,” I comment, looking at the floral design she chose. She’s filling it in with shades of purple and teal. “Seda sent these for you.” I dig in my bag for the drawings.

“Oh.” My mom takes them, smiling and looking over each one. “How sweet of her. Was your time with her nice?”

I nod, sitting down on the couch so I can remove my strappy sandals. “Yeah, but it always is. Even when she’s driving me up a wall, I love her so much.”

My mom smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Being a parent is the most amazing thing you’ll ever do in your life. It’s not for the faint of heart, though.”

“That’s for sure.” I shudder, thinking of Georgia’s young boys and how she told me once that the oldest caught a mouse and brought it into the house. Not even Binx does that.

“Is Caleb all right?”

Although my mom fully supported my decision on the divorce, she loves Caleb and likes to keep check on him.

“He’s good.”

“Is he dating anyone?” she inquires, continuing to color like she didn’t ask me a monumental question.

“I don’t know.” I pick up some of her coloring books from the pile on the floor. “We don’t talk about that kind of thing. He’s free to date if he wants.”

“Is he still in love with you?”

My shoulders lock, my body tensing. “Mom,” I beg.

“It’s a genuine question, Salem.” She gives me that motherly look—the one with the arched brow daring me not to answer.

“Yes.” I flip through the pages, looking for a page to color myself. Her eyes try to bore a hole through me, but I steadfastly ignore her.

“You did the right thing, you know.” Her words take me by surprise, my head jerking up. She looks back at me with a tiny smile. “You love him, I know you do, but he loves you more. So, you did the right thing in letting him go.”

I exhale a shaky breath. “I thought if I just tried harder, put in more effort, I could love him like he loved me.”

“But you never could.”

“No,” I answer even though it wasn’t a question. “When he started talking about having kids, I just…” Rubbing my lips together, I search for the right words. “I couldn’t do it anymore. He’s amazing, the greatest guy, and I love him, but not in the way he deserves to be loved.”

I look down at the page I stopped on, the black and white image blurred from the tears flooding my eyes. I never, ever wanted to hurt Caleb. Not back then and not now, either. But I’m not a perfect person, no one is and if they think they are then they’re delusional. We all do things we’re not proud of. I will never regret my time with Caleb. It’s not possible. But I do regret not loving him enough. The worst part is, if I’d never met Thayer, and known what soul-crushing, all-consuming love felt like, then I think Caleb and I would’ve been a good match.

But I did meet Thayer, and that single moment forever changed the trajectory of my life.

“Please, don’t cry,” she pleads, reaching for the box of tissues on the table beside her bed.

I reach for the tissue, taking it from her to dab my eyes. “I’m a horrible person, Mom. The shittiest. He loves me so much. Why can’t I do the same?”

She looks at me sympathetically. “Honey,” she says softly, her eyes pitying, “you have to forgive yourself. You did the right thing.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was right or not.” I dry up more tears. “I still hurt him.”

“Hurt is temporary.”

“Yeah?” I laugh humorlessly, thinking about how it’s been six years since Thayer broke my heart. That hurt certainly hasn’t been temporary, but maybe things would’ve been different if I didn’t have our daughter. She’s the best thing in this world, but she’s also a constant reminder of him.

“You’re so strong.”

“Mom.” I shake my head. “You’re the strong one.”

She laughs. “How about we’re both strong?”

“That works.” I wipe the tissue beneath my nose.

Her face sobers, and she looks at me with worry. “I want you to be happy, Salem. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”